


Choices

by Readerinsertfanfiction



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender, イケメン戦国 時をかける恋 | Ikemen Sengoku: Toki o Kakeru Koi (Visual Novel), イケメン革命アリスと恋の魔法 | Ikemen Revolution: Love & Magic in Wonderland (Visual Novel), 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Anime)
Genre: Choose Your Own Character, Gen, Sort Of, i think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24394042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readerinsertfanfiction/pseuds/Readerinsertfanfiction
Summary: I have been thinking for a while now that I wanted to write a series in which the reader gets to pick their love interest. Feel free to fill in the accompanying survey as well.Inspiration taken from a side-character in a C-drama who intrigued me way more than the actual main, so I went and skipped and then had to write this story because wow was that unsatisfactory. – Posted early, because I’m impatient and couldn’t wait to share this with you guys and hopefully you will share my excitement??? Please do, because I really like this idea.
Relationships: Imagawa Yoshimoto/Reader, Jonah Clemence/Reader, Lotor (Voltron)/Reader, Tomioka Giyuu/Reader
Kudos: 26





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Survey link: https://forms.gle/uD5ubxz6ukzJm2PC7

The day that you were brought into the palace was also the day in which you found that your world collapsed, limiting its space to the walls of the courts in which you found yourself. The colours that used to paint your horizon, the sounds that used to fill your mind, were all left behind at the entrance of the great empire that you served now.

“Doctor [Surname]?” a young prince asked you, earning a rather disappastionate look from you as you turned around. White hair and blue eyes. You knew that these were the signs of royalty, but felt little for the customs you suddenly had to adhere yourself to, especially not in front of someone who seemed to be about your age.

Raising up the stick with which you had been prodding around in the dirt with you pointed at the office of your father, before returning to your leisurely activity.

“Scandalous,” a woman’s voice rang, earning a look from the both of you as you glared up at the figure approaching. “You’re addressing the fifth prince here, a potential heir to the throne,” she hissed at you, a palace maid pulled you up roughly at your arms, her legs kicking between yours as she forced you down to the ground. “You are to bow and to answer, proper.”

Gritting your teeth you tried to fight the palace maid, but small as you were you felt utterly powerless as you fell to the ground painfully, your knees bruising on the stone as your head was lowered.

“Enough,” the prince spoke harshly, commanding the palace maid to cease her treatment immediately. “It is fine,” he stated, though there was impatience in his voice as he bowed down next to you. “Are you fine?”

White locks fell within your vision as gentle hands pulled you onto your feet once more. Instinctively you knew this not to be right as you jumped away from the prince’s touch, startled.

“It is alright, I called the maid to retreat,” the prince sighed, a little ashamed at the way you had been treated. “You’re new, right? The prodigy of doctor [Surname]?” he inquired, not missing a beat in his own polite speech.

To this you only nodded, your eyes cast to the paved ground underneath you, longing to resume your dirt drawing with your stick, though the prince had other ideas.

“Prince Lotor,” the male introduced himself, crouching down next to you as he cocked his head a little. “I was sent to pick up some medicine for my mother,” he stated his business, though he was once more met with silence as you raised your stick up once more, pointing into the direction of your father’s office.

“Not a talker, huh?” the prince mused, seemingly undeterred as he suddenly pulled you along with him. “That’s fine, but we will need to check up on your knees,” he said resolutely, pulling you along with him towards the direction you had pointed at.

Your meeting with the youngest prince of the empire, Lotor, had been far from usual. Not that either of you minded it. As void as you had felt, so had the existence of Lotor been, with barely any children of his age that he could play around with, despite the many half siblings he had within court. It was the reality of being born with the potential of inheriting the crown, all siblings turned into potential rivals, plotters to your demise. Your presence was a welcome one, for it allowed Lotor a sense of normalcy within the great palace walls.

At your turn Lotor was the only colour in your otherwise dull life within the courts. Ever since your mother’s passing and your father’s promotion, ever since you had been deemed old enough to study medicine alongside your father, you had been summoned to stay within the court. To prepare you for eventually taking over your father’s position, to ensure your loyalty to the court by forcing your world to revolve around the crown.

This was further enforced with your friendship with prince Lotor, devoting all of your determination and passion for him as you grew up. Where Lotor grew to be a formidable swordsman and a warsman, you supported him in silence, offering medical assistance as your fame over your medical skill grew widespread.

“Lotor?” you called for your friend as you visited his palace, curiously looking out over the courtyard to seek out the familiar bush of long white hair and tall slim figure, though you were disappointed when you only saw the palace maids, dusting the compound.

“[Name],” one of the maids came hurrying towards you, an apologetic look on her face as she bowed. “I’m afraid you just missed the prince,” she told you, her head still lowered even though you waved for her to straighten up. “He said that he will see you once he returns from his adventure.”

This stilled you, as you narrowed your eyes at the maid’s words, finding it hard to put them within context as you retreated from the palace.

With Lotor’s sudden departure from court you were suddenly plunged right back into a world of dull colours and void memories of outside. His leave, rose the ire of his father, the king, and the loss of your voice once more.

“The acclaimed doctor [Surname].”

You heard someone call you from the door. Looking up from your work you didn’t bother to hide away the glare for the interruption given. “How much I have heard of you and your glares,” the stranger at the door spoke amused, not bothering with much of the decorum that the court forced upon all as he entered your office. Graceful lines came within vision, an elegant gait descending down from the sun towards your table.

“I have come to pay my respects, but mostly to explore this palace that is to be my cage,” the stranger spoke, his words strangely poetic as he addressed you, his eyes firm yet kind yet sensual.

You couldn’t look away, blinking at the breathtaking figure in front of you as you took in the dark hair and the light-golden eyes.

“Yoshimoto, the exiled prince of Imagawa,” he introduced himself, so casually as if the title and the name meant nothing at all, as if he could pluck out the words and let them carry off into the wind if he wanted. 

“[Name],” you responded almost immediately, surprised at the sound of your own voice as you quickly covered your mouth with your own hand.

To this Yoshimoto smiled, a grin shaking his shoulders ever so lightly as he eyed you. “I have heard rumours that you are without voice,” he spoke, amused at your little slip-up as he smiled graciously once more.

The breeze that the exiled Yoshimoto brought into the courts was the air that you had been longing for. The stories from outside, broadening the limitations that the crown had forced down upon you. A flourish of colour entered your life once more as your eyes caught onto the figure of Yoshimoto Imagawa, an artist exiled to the dull lands of war.

However, where Yoshimoto brought foreign stories of great culture and artistic, the grim reality also frequented your little office. In the form of a pristine white and red uniform you were often faced with the injuries and the fate of what a soldier beheld out on the battlefield. The wars that were fought outside couldn’t be blocked by even the palace walls, it seemed, for you often had to tend to another grim injury.

“Gently!” the soldier hissed at you as you roughly cleaned the wound, your lips pulled into a taut line and a glare to match. To this sight the soldier shrunk, letting go of another whimper as you resolutely dabbed the disinfectant straight onto the wound, your eyes trained onto the complaining soldier.

“How crude,” a haughty voice spoke, mint green hair and amber eyes, traits of which you knew belonged to a certain noble family within the courts. In came the young and newly appointed general, Jonah Clemence.

“I see you are rough as ever, [Name],” the male spent little time greeting you courteously, his lips formed into a pout as he stared you down disapprovingly.

Ignoring his presence you continued to reach for the bandages, wrapping the soldier’s wound in it as you then pulled out a salve, thrusting it towards the man alongside with a hastily written description.

“Three times a day, to return after a week for a check-up. Stay away from the attiliteries the next time, especially if there is fire, now scram.”

The soldier smiled sheepishly as he read the note out loud, an arm reaching for the back of his head. He was about to say something, but Jonah beat him to it, sending the lower-ranked officer on his way with a single glare.

“I know you can speak, doctor [Surname]. Stop this pretension and answer me immediately,” the general addressed you, his tone commanding you as if you were one of his men, though ultimately lost once more as you just stared up at the other, quiet as ever.

Beautiful as the general was the Clemence heir was haughty. A trait that had the two of you frequently clash despite the lack of words exchanged from your side. However, unpleasant as Jonah could be he never tried to force you to speak, instead casting down his eyes as he heaved a deep sigh.

“Whatever, try to be more gentle with my men. They don’t deserve your rough treatment,” he reprimanded you, another glare set in his eyes. “Whatever it is that displeases you should be addressed to me, not inflicted on my men,” he continued bravely, earning an impressed look from you.

“Oh?” you finally sounded to which the man sucked in another breath.

“Don’t, ‘oh’ me, answer me fully, do you understand?” Jonah let his temper flare up once more as you flashed him a taunting smile, nodding your head in answer before returning to your duties once more.

“Unbelievable,” was all he huffed before finally exiting your office.

Where Lotor tied you down to the palace, and where Yoshimoto gave you air to breathe, Jonah reminded you once more of the reasons why you had taken up the position you sat upon now. Vitriolic as your relationship was between one another it was nothing compared to the man you were about to meet.

“State your business.” The voice that addressed you was cold, distant and apprehensive, looking you down from his position as he blocked your path. “The Imagawa descendant is not to see anyone without appointment,” his guard spoke coldly. “Especially no pawn of this empire.”

The words said by the soldier were cold yet scathing, blue eyes, similar to Lotor, yet so different with dark hair, similar to the prince that you were trying to visit, but rough instead of soft and elegantly bound. It was the only attendee that the exiled prince was allowed to have by his side; Giyu Tomioka.

“Let [Name] through, Giyu,” Yoshimoto’s voice sounded through the garden, his form light as always as he stood down the path, a smile turned towards you.

Giving the guard a triumphant look you skipped past the soldier, dragging your medical kit after you as you entered the special inner-palace that had been prepared for the foreign prince.

“To what do I owe the honour of your visit?” Yoshimoto’s question was gentle as you reached his side, his hand easily reaching out for your kit as he pulled the weight off your hands.

“I heard you had a cold,” you spoke easily, taking in a deep breath as you looked up at the enigmatic man. “The pharmacy just replenished their cabinets, so I thought of bringing some over lest they will leave you with the scraps once more,” you continued, pulling out a package from your sleeve as you handed it to the man.

“Better scraps than pois—” Giyu stepped forward, determined to take the package out of your hands and throw it away before Yoshimoto stopped the man. With a wave of his hand the male took your package, unwrapping it to reveal its content.

“You’re too suspicious, Giyu. [Name] is a friend,” the prince spoke, flashing you another one of his smiles before closing the package once more. “I will put them to good use,” the male thanked you, to which you gave him a grimace.

“Just take care of yourself. This is your second cold within the span of three months,” you admonished him, eyes flickering over the man as you tried to see if there were any signs of failing health visible on the man.

Letting go of an airy laugh Yoshimoto put a finger against his lips, another mysterious smile cast on his face as his eyes sparkled into mischief. “My colds are only pretension. I can’t have the king believe that I’m in good health, lest he will do everything in his power to truly make me ill,” the male whispered to you, his face close before pulling back once more.

“But that is a secret between you and me,” he spoke easily, adding a wink after his words to which you could feel your cheeks warm at the charming man.

“My prince, I don’t think it is a good idea to share such secrets with an outsider,” Giyu spoke up, his eyes trained onto you carefully. “I’m aware that [Name] doesn’t speak as a rule, but who is to say that you are the only exception?” the man continued to reason, earning a hum from the prince.

“Very well, and what do you say to this?” the Imagawa prince addressed you. Brimming a certain confidence the male waited for your answer, his lips curving up along with yours as the two of you exchanged a look.

“Mr. Tomioka is more than welcome to watch me the whole day, if he so pleases. Though I wouldn’t want to bore him with my silence,” you spoke, a twinkle apparent in your eyes. “I’m sure that prince Imagawa will welcome the silence, at least,” you joked, earning a mirthful chuckle from Yoshimoto.

Realising that he had been had Giyu stared at both his master and you blankly, his expression far from pleased now that he knew that he was being made fun of.

“I can’t, I have to protect the prince,” was his stern answer, earning yet another chuckle from the both of you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> – I suppose it is fair to say that this is still an introduction of sorts. I’m still trying to establish the characters and the story before splitting off into separate routes. 
> 
> (Has anyone picked up on the fact that reader is a selective mute? Really slightly, but I felt that it is important to point out.)
> 
> Please take the survey as well if you enjoy the story: https://forms.gle/uGHkMLT3Bf9BVWjB6

Dark clouds hung above the palace, signalling nothing good to come both in weather and in fortune. However, that didn’t alert you as much as the air hanging around in the pharmacy as you returned from your rounds. The silence that hung around the courtyard of the plaza, the absence of the brewers and the apothecaries usually running abound, even the lack of patients lining up to see you, or one of the other doctors of the court surprised you.

Dropping your kit on top of your desk you felt a chill on the back of your neck as you kept your back turned to the shelf where the medicines were stored, knowing that there was a presence behind you. Reaching for the knife hidden in your sash you stilled your breath as you counted the seconds.

“Freeze!” you called, spinning around as you held out the sharp item under the chin of your aggressor. “Sneaking up on me, Lotor?” you smiled, holding the knife closer to his throat.

Chuckling, the prince raises his arms in defeat, a charming smile on his lips as he gives you an approving look. “Why still attack me if you knew it was me?” the male questioned, though he was too pleased with himself to act out on any disappointment in surprising you. “Don’t I get a hug? Or maybe a kiss?” the male teased, earning a roll of your eyes.

“None, not for someone who left the court half a year ago without leaving behind a letter,” you responded, your arm finally lowering as you pocketed your knife. “What made you return anyway?”

Guilt flashed by his expression as the prince crossed his arms at the back, an habit for whenever he felt in the wrong. A move you knew well and immediately had you forgive the man.

“At least you’re well. Well enough to sneak up on me,” you decided to say, earning another smile from the prince who closed in on you, an affectionate arm thrown over your shoulder as you started to unpack your medical kit.

“Did you miss me?” Lotor questioned, his fingers immediately running through your hair as he played around with a few loose strands. “I heard a rumour outside of the courts. They say that the imperial doctor is the best there is, but ruthless,” he continued with a tease as he pulled away, turning over to the other side of the table as he sat himself down comfortably amongst your tools.

“Now where did you earn such a reputation from, [Name]?” the prince asked, fingers going over your desk as he examined all of the mixtures you had.

Rolling your eyes once more you gave the man a shrug, not really caring for whatever gossip he had brought as you swatted his hands away from your work. “Don’t mess it up. Don’t listen to gossip. Go focus on topics that actually matter,” you scolded.

To this the male ignored you, as he so often did, picking up your mortar and pestle, pretending to grind the air. “They were talking about you, that is important to me,” the prince quipped back with a wink before turning more serious again.

“I heard that the exiled prince of Imagawa has arrived?” Lotor’s expression suddenly turned serious. The playful young playmate seemingly disappearing. “You should be careful in whom you treat, [Name]. If he tries anything you will be the first to be suspected.”

A fair warning, for you had almost exclusively treated the prince ever since his arrival. Though, one you didn’t need. Pulling the mortar and pestle out of Lotor’s arms you gave him a smack on the arm before you ushered him out of the seat that he was occupying. A sign that you weren’t going to listen to his advice.

“Yoshimoto is a friend. We both are in need of some in this court,” you waved the man’s concern off, ignoring the expression on Lotor’s face.

“Besides, I have you here now, right?” you carefully tried instead.

The way the fifth prince’s face lit up was a sight you treasured the most.

“Just be careful, alright?” the prince couldn’t help himself but express his concern, his eyes crinkling into a warmth that you had come to recognise as care from him. “If you ever find yourself in danger, be sure to call for me, okay?” Lotor pressured on, to which you only responded with another roll of the eye.

The clouds were building up as the day progressed, looming over the imperial palace like a threat. Soon, the first drops of rain fell down, though it was not the water from the heavens that the day feared. It was not the wet from the sky that you should have cared about.

“Rebels!” The alarm sounded through all of the palaces, guards ran for the front, preparing themselves to defend the gate of the imperial city with their lives. Intermingled with them were the servants, some seeking safety, others seeking out their masters and mistresses to bring them to safety.

Finding yourself in the same chaos you wondered if Lotor’s return had anything to do with the attack the palace was facing now, a cold fear settling in your bones as you watched the rain pelt down harder, making a fight with fire impossible within the cold that was seeping through your clothes. Adjusting your medical kit you were determined to head down to the front when you were pulled to the side, into an alley.

“It is me, [Name],” Yoshimoto’s breath was warm against your ear, as were his arms as he calmed you down from your initial shock. “I have come to warn you,” the Imagawa prince was quick to get to his point as he turned you around, his features hidden underneath a hood to protect him from the rain.

Stumped, you weren’t sure what to say, or how to react as you stared over his shoulder, noticing that his loyal guard Giyu was standing closeby, standing watch with his sword ready. Feeling your eyes widen, you knew you had given away your thoughts to the perceptive prince.

Smiling his usual smile, Yoshimoto let go of your arms, regret clear in his eyes as he knew he couldn’t explain the situation to you. “There isn’t much time, but know that I have valued your friendship,” the prince spoke, his eyes flitting over to the mainstreet as he pulled you into the alley deeper. “You have to promise me not to go to the front. Go to the king’s side instead, you will be safe there,” Yoshimoto continued to urge you, his hand lingering over yours only for moments before retreating into his cloak. “And should they ask, don’t tell them of this meeting. Tell them that I attacked you and robbed you of your kit.”

Without waiting for you to actually make your promise, or to regain your voice, even the make turned away, leaving you alone in the alley. Your kit, proven to be indeed gone from your grasp without your notice.

“Wait, Yos–”

When you finally did find yourself you were met with Giyu’s blade at your throat, a frightening glare headed for you as you froze in place.

“My lord may have chosen to trust you, but one sign of betrayal and I will have the rain taste your blood,” was all the guard said before departing as well, following after the ethereal figure of one of your rare friends in court.

With the retreat of your friend you felt the rain colder than before, your feet mindlessly taking you back to your pharmacy where you planned to gather your supplies once more.

“Halt!”

Once more the sharp blade of the sword was pointed at you, the figure this time poised in the proud colours of red and white. The green of his hair clung to his handsome face, drenched by the rain just like all who were out were, though Jonah’s eyes were brimming in determination as he glowered you down.

“Why aren’t you at the front?” His voice was harsh, louder than the clash of the rain on the pebbles, harder than the rumble of the heavens sounding off the lightning.

Raising your arms you gave him a look down your empty hands and the missing medical kit, your eyes feeling distant and unfocused as you tried to meet Jonah’s gaze.

“What’s wrong?” the general speaks, a frown on his face as he notices your expression. It was strange, though you had never exchanged a friendly word with the man his concern for you seemed genuine. Genuine enough despite the sword pointed at you.

Feeling a warm hand clasping your arm you let yourself be led out of the rain, into your office as Jonah pulled you along, his eyes set into a deep frown as he brushed the locks out of his eyes. His sword had long since been sheathed back into place, though his body was still wary as he left his men instructions.

“You probably will refuse to answer me, but I will have to keep you here until these pesky rebels are rooted out,” Jonah spoke, his voice taking on his usually haught tone once more as he searched around for something to dry you and himself off with. “Just point out where the towels are and maybe brew a cold medicine for yourself,” the man continued, never ceasing to give instructions.

Reaching for one of the cabinets you pulled out the fresh towels Jonah was looking for, warmth slowly returning to you as you were surrounded once more by what was most familiar to you.

“Thank you, [Name],” the general spoke, rapt steps coming over to you as he picked up one of the towels. Dropping one of them on your head Jonah’s hand quickly started to make circular motions over your head, drying you off as he continued.

“I don’t know why you aren’t at the front like I expected you to be, but you should stay put for now. It will not do if you catch a cold, or get caught up in the collision.”

The man took you by surprise with how gently he was drying you off, his hands making sure to wring your hair as dry as possible. Every now and then you could feel his cool fingertips brush over your scalp, as if he was making sure that it wasn’t too damp.

“I fell,” you broke the silence after a while. Taking in a breath you felt Jonah’s hands still for a moment before he stepped away from you, apparently satisfied and done helping you as he picked up a fresh towel for himself.

“I fell and lost my kit,” you tried again, glad that the general had left the towel on top of your head, for you were sure that your expression would reveal the lie you were telling. “That’s why I’m here.”

“So you do speak,” Jonah scoffed, his voice muffled by the towel on his head as he pulled it off, his hair falling right back into place. Folding up the towel he didn’t say much else before turning towards the door once more, checking outside for the weather.

“Stay here and stay inside, don’t open the door for anyone unless it is me.”

If you had ever been any good at following orders you weren’t exactly known for it. As soon as Jonah left you alone in your office you gathered your lost materials, throwing together whatever you could find and thought to need into a fabric that you knotted to function as a bag. It wasn’t convenient, but it would have to do and you were determined to make it work.

Attacks to the imperial city were of regular occurrence, it came with the position, you figured. The symbol of absolute rule and power, the decision-making organ. You figured that many would want to vouch for the job, thinking that they could do better for some reason or another. However, it was rare for the rebellions to get so close to the gates, often finding themselves squashed at the front lines by sheer numbers alone.

You knew that you should have listened to both Jonah and stayed back, but the knowledge that Yoshimoto was involved within the attack, or using the attack as a guise to escape worried you. It wouldn’t be his first attempt to leave the imperial city and the capital, but it would be a gamble each and every time, a gamble on his own life that everyone was much too eager to see end. Everyone but you, at least, for there was a dear friend within the man.

The rain had cleared up, though the battle hadn’t. Ahead you could hear the battlecries of the soldiers clashing with the rebellion at the maingate, a place you were to avoid for now. Instead you duck into the dark alleyways you had familiarised through your stay within the imperial city and weaved your way through, feet hurrying and meeting mud as you strayed off the path eventually, towards the waterworks of the city.

Just as you had predicted you saw a boat at the waterside, forlorn and hidden within the reed, but readied to be used in an escape. A plan foiled, it seemed as there was no sign of any life other than your own bated breaths.

“You better have a good explanation for this,” a voice suddenly crept up on you, a blade flashing on your throat as you felt your arms pulling back, your makeshift bag falling to the ground, spilling your items.

Behind you was Giyu, his voice a low hiss as he pulled you closer, the blade flashing dangerously close against your skin as you could see his reflection in the weapon.

Not too far away Yoshimoto rose from the grass himself, his expression stern as he fixed his gaze on you. The kit you had lost dangled on his shoulder, though he didn’t seem to care for its weight as he stepped closer to you, his usually charming and welcoming demeanour having sunken into something cold.

“The lord was already afraid that there someone had found out about the plan, but we never would have thought it was you,” Giyu continued in a spiteful voice as he pulled you back onto the road forcefully. “I shouldn’t have doubted you, my lord,” the guard continued, though his voice barely held any warmth at all as he released you, the tip of his sword still pointed at you as he pushed you off.

“What are we to do, now that the plan has been foiled?” The guard’s question rang sharply as you stared at the duo, your mind whirring all the while, blanking out at the chill that you felt seeping in, though it wasn’t because of your drenched figure or the rain that you felt cold.

“I suggest you let [Name] go.”

An even chillier voice came from behind, along with the whizz of an arrow passing by, anchoring itself into a nearby tree with a thud. From the opposing direction stood Lotor, his long hair drenched like the rest of you were, but his figure tall and imposing as he prepared for another shot.

“The rebellion has been squashed, I suggest you come with me to my father if you don’t plan for this to be your grave,” came the cold voice of the prince, a steely gaze fixated upon the exiled prince nearby who had remained silent all this while.

“Alas,” Yoshimoto finally spoke as he cast his eyes down, his arms swaying in defeat before he raised them, soft golden eyes reflecting nothing as he returned his gaze to Lotor. “Let us see the king, Giyu, lower your sword,” came his command and you felt yourself released, a gasp running through your body as you nearly toppled over from the tension.

A tension built up within your throat, thick and stuck as you stared between Lotor and Yoshimoto, switching over to Giyu. You had to say something, you knew that. You had to help, but your mind drew a blank as the words didn’t want to come, too many words rumbling up and yet too few being sounded.

Yoshimoto never spared you a glance as Lotor took you by the arm, a reassuring arm thrown over your shoulder as he led you away.

The rain started again on your way to the king.


End file.
